


Bath Interrupted

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Comedy, Erotica, F/M, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-15
Updated: 2006-10-15
Packaged: 2018-10-27 12:04:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Harry and Ginny try to get some alone time in the Prefect's Bath. They fail. Appearances by Ron, Hermione, and an unwelcome spirit.





	Bath Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

For Emma Grant who requested Harry/Ginny for the Demelza fundraiser. I hope the story is awkward enough for you.

A big thank you to Madam Minnie for holding my hand as I wrote my first Het fic.

* * *

Harry Potter found himself unable to concentrate in lessons, not that this was a recent development. He had received a rather suggestive note from Ginny at lunch: “Meet me at the Prefects’ Bath at eight tonight- Ginny.” To a sixteen year- old boy with an active imagination, those words could be construed as lascivious. Unfortunately, now Harry faced the dilemma of how to concentrate in lessons while formulating a plan to meet Ginny for Very Adult Activities without Ron knowing, as well as Harry’s fretting about Ginny’s expectations of him. Did she want more than snogging? Did she expect Harry to take the initiative? How far had she gone with Dean? Could Harry compare with him? Before Ginny, the most he had ever done with a girl was kiss rather awkwardly. Now there were tongues involved in the kissing, not to mention breasts and the fondling of them. All these thoughts ran through his mind during his last lesson of the day, Transfiguration. The students were learning how to transfigure inanimate objects into small animals. Today they were to transfigure silverware into rabbits.

 

“Mr. Potter! What exactly is your rabbit doing?” Professor McGongagall exclaimed, breaking Harry’s reverie. Harry’s transfigured rabbit was trying to mate with Hermione’s transfigured one.

 

“Sorry, Professor.” Harry quickly scooped up his rabbit and gave Hermione an apologetic look.

 

“Five points from Gryffindor for such crudeness.” McGonagall looked ready to say something when Ron sniggered. “And I wouldn’t be so amused Mr. Weasley, as I notice that your rabbit’s fur is still rather metallic in color.”

 

Mc Gonagall proceeded to walk around the classroom, checking on the other students’ progress. Fortunately for Harry, Ron focused his attention on fixing his rabbit instead of teasing Harry. Class ended soon, and once again Hermione earned full marks. The three friends dropped their books in their dormitories and went to supper.

 

Dinner swiftly became a torturous affair for Harry. Ron retold the story of Harry and Hermione’s rabbits to numerous classmates, stopped only by a withering glare from Hermione during dessert. Meanwhile, Ginny, who sat across from Harry, ate her food in an increasingly obscene way when Ron or Hermione weren’t paying attention. Ginny’s ministrations proved too much for Harry; he stood up from the table very glad for roomy robes.

 

“I’m going to go upstairs and finish that essay for Flitwick,” he announced.

 

“Harry, you haven’t eaten a bite of your dessert.” Hermione said rather concerned.

 

“Not hungry. Couldn’t eat another bite.” Harry fled the Great Hall for the safety of the dormitory, missing the looks Ron and Hermione exchanged over his sudden escape.

 

An hour and a half later, Harry had nearly finished his Charms essay when Ron came into their dorm room. He threw his books on his bed and began rummaging through his trunk.

 

“I’m going for a shower. Are you taking one later?” Ron’s muffled voice came out from the trunk.

 

“What? Er, no. Actually, I think I’ll go use the Prefect’s bath. Haven’t used it in a while.” Harry could not believe his good fortune. All his worrying came to naught as Ron inadvertently gave Harry his opportunity to meet Ginny without Ron knowing.

 

“Just watch out for Myrtle.” Ron joked as he went to the showers.

 

Relieved that he wouldn’t need to lie to Ron, Harry set off at once for the Prefect’s bath. He only ran into a few other students in the halls, thankfully no teachers or caretakers or their cats. Having reached the Prefect’s bath unmolested, _for now_ , he thought, Harry found the door would not open when he spoke the password. 

 

“Bloody hell!” Harry glanced over to the statue next to the door with a look on his face to rival that of Boris’. Plucking up his courage, Harry knocked on the door.

 

“Who’s there?” A muffled, feminine voice asked.

 

“Ginny? The door won’t open.”

 

“Sorry, Harry.” A second later the door opened and steam carrying the fragrance of sun-kissed strawberries wafted out. Not wasting a second, Harry entered the bath and shut the door behind him careful to cast a locking charm. Ginny had filled the tub with strawberry scented bubbles. Apparently she started without him.

 

“Ginny, are you _naked?_ ” Harry gazed in wonder. Beneath the cover of foam, Ginny could very well be, _naked_.

 

“It is a _bath_ , after all,” she replied. Gone, though, was the smirk she had been wearing most of the afternoon. She looked unsure of herself and of what she was doing. Strangely, her uncertainty put Harry at ease.

 

“Right then. I’m joining you.” Harry’s voice didn’t waver, but he hesitated in removing his clothes. “Er, Ginny, would you mind, turning around?”

 

Ginny obliged him and to her credit did not smile nor giggle at Harry’s nervousness. Whereas Dean most likely would have wandered starkers, shouting: “Here I am, look at my wondrous specimen of manhood,” Harry had a well-developed sense of modesty. He lowered himself in the foamy bath, the water was still warm. Ginny must have only drawn the bath a few minutes before he arrived.

 

“I’m in.” Ginny turned towards him. Harry blushed a bit, trying to maintain eye contact and not allow his gaze to drop lower. Although the bubbles hid everything, Ginny drew her arms against her bare chest. The realization that she and Harry were naked together had finally sunk in. “Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea,” she mumbled, her eyes downcast.

 

“No! It’s a great idea! Brilliant even. I just don’t know what you were expecting, if anything.” 

 

“I suppose I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

 

“We don’t have to do anything, really. Besides, I’d hate for Myrtle to pop by.”

 

“Moaning Myrtle? I thought she stayed in the girl’s lavatory.”

 

“She does wander off. It can be very unnerving,” he shuddered as he remembered his last experience meeting Myrtle in the Prefect’s Bath.

 

“Why are we talking about Moaning Myrtle?” Ginny had made her way next to Harry during his inane babble. 

 

“Because… we’re incredibly nervous and haven’t done this sort of thing before?” He answered her, miraculously keeping what was left of his wit.

 

“But we want to, right?”

 

“Oh yes, we want to. Very much.”

 

“Good.” Ginny steered Harry back towards the steps into the bath. They sat down facing each other. Harry brushed aside the wet tendrils of hair that clung to the side of Ginny’s face. He leaned in towards her and she met his lips with her own. He massaged her tongue with his own while he ran his hand down her side, the skin warm, smooth and wet. Ginny mirrored his actions and ghosted her hands along his bare chest. However, being a bit bolder in personality than Harry, she was the first who dared take her touch lower. She wrapped her hand around his cock and slowly began to stroke it. 

 

“Ginny, wait, like this,” Harry corrected her grip then he stroked her clit.

 

“Harry, you can, you know, finger, in me.” Ginny had a tight grip on his shoulder with her free hand, her slightly open as she took ragged breaths.. Harry did as she asked and slipped his middle finger into her tight, wet heat while his thumb ghosted over her clit. Ginny quickened her pace on Harry’s shaft and what started out as soft groans became louder moans interspersed with heavy panting. As their lust grew more intense, a different moaning could be heard followed by an unmistakable cackling.

 

“Oh no,” Harry groaned. He removed his hands from Ginny’s body and stilled her hand on his cock.

 

“What?” Ginny asked releasing him under the water.

 

“It’s Myrtle,” he whispered. Ginny looked positively petrified.

 

“What do we have here? Two Prefects doing something they ought…” Moaning Myrtle paused as she realized exactly who was in the bath.

 

“Mood killer” Ginny muttered.

 

“Er, hello, Myrtle,” Harry said trying to sound as though he had just commented on the weather and wasn’t caught doing naughty things with his girlfriend. To Ginny he whispered a quick “get our clothes.”

 

“What are you doing with _her_?” Myrtle pointed an accusatory finger at Ginny.

 

“What did it look like he was doing?” Ginny answered a little short-tempered given the circumstances.

 

“I wasn’t asking _you_ ” Myrtle said nastily, “I was asking Harry.” She pronounced his name with a rather dreamlike quality in her tone. Meanwhile, seeing that Ginny had not summoned their clothes, Harry had begun to do so. 

 

“I’m his girlfriend Myrtle and boyfriends and girlfriends do these sorts of activities. Alone.” Ginny grabbed a towel and got out of the bath, Harry followed suit.

 

“I know that. This room ought to be renamed the Orgy Bath. And why is _she_ your girlfriend?”

 

“Myrtle, look…” Harry had retrieved his pajamas and dressing gown and was putting them on. Meanwhile, Ginny had grabbed her robes and shirt, but dropped her undergarments to put an end to Myrtle’s questioning.

 

“I’m his girlfriend because one: I don’t hang around baths to spy on people like a complete pervert, two: I don’t spend my existence crying in a toilet, and, oh yeah, three: I’m not dead.” Ginny threw her shirt on, extremely hacked off. Harry merely looked absolutely terrified. Myrtle let out a great, sobbing wail and disappeared into the water.

 

“Ginny….” Harry noticed that the water had begun to rise.

 

“Got rid of her, didn’t it? Where are my bra and knickers?” 

 

“Ginny, I think we best….” Harry never finished his sentence as all the taps began spewing water at a violent rate. A jet of water blasted Ginny in the back as a huge wave came roaring out of the bath itself.

 

“RUN!” Harry grabbed Ginny’s hand and began to run across the wet floor to the door. They had just made it out the door when the wave crashed down on them, sending what clothes they hadn’t put on floating through the hallways. They stood up in the hallway, coughing, drenched and scrambled around to find the rest of their clothes. Two familiar voices could be heard in the distance.

 

“See? I told you something was up, Hermione!”

 

“Ron, look, if it was Myrtle, I’ll go talk to her. You should go get Filch,” Hermione suggested.

 

“Hey! Whose bra is this?” Ron moved to pick up a cotton bra in the water.

 

“Ronald Weasley if you pick that up, so help me…”

 

“All right, all right. I’m going to get Filch.”

 

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. As much as Ron had been suggesting Harry ought to date Ginny, Harry didn’t think Ron could handle seeing the actual “dating” part. Hermione came around the corner.

 

“You both owe me. Here’s your bra Ginny. Ron went the other way; you’ll have a clear path to the tower. I suppose Moaning Myrtle likes you single, Harry.”

 

“Thanks Hermione.” Harry started to go, but paused when Ginny didn’t follow.

 

“Harry, it wouldn’t look good if we both came back at the same time looking like we do.” Ginny said.

 

“Right. See you later then.” Harry hurried off despite the wet clothes. Ginny turned to Hermione.

 

“You were supposed to keep my brother far away.”

 

“We were one floor above here when Myrtle threw her fit. I’m surprised she didn’t draw out a Professor or worse, Peeves.”

 

“On that note,” Ginny performed a quick drying charm, “I ought to be getting back to the tower as well. Thanks for trying though, Hermione.”

 

“I suppose you didn’t get very far, did you?”

 

“Details later. After Myrtle’s miniature tsunami, I don’t reckon running into Peeves would be any better. G’nite.” Ginny left Hermione in the large puddle to await Ron’s return. As she walked back to her dormitory, Ginny wondered that with all the rooms and magic and determined teenagers before her, why in Merlin’s name wasn’t there a private snogging spot in the bloody castle? Oh well, she would just have to try again. She could find someplace, she knew it. She was a Weasley after all.  

  


End file.
